Every time I think it could not possibly hurt any more, I get surprised.
I sat and listened to WH explain last night how he understood that what he was risking was destroying me (risking my life to HIV, breaking my heart, devastating me as a human being entirely, pretty much), but, that he justified the risk being worth taking.
Then he went on and on about all the great support he's getting from his friends. How they all see him as valuable and worthwhile. That somehow, that makes him feel better about himself. I guess my telling him every day of our life together how much I loved him and how amazing he was didn't matter a hill of beans ... because I am not a Christian.
Seems WH has had some lifelong crisis of faith, that supposedly conflicted him terribly. He claims to have wanted to talk to me about it, but didn't feel that he could. And yes, he gave two reasons for that. One, that I used "Jesus Christ" as an expletive. And two, that when we went to see "Book of Mormon" last year, that I laughed. (sidebar - I asked my friends this morning to recollect that, as they went with WH and I to see it last year - and they remembered how my WH laughed his ass off together the entire night). Seems now, however, WH has decided that my taking him to Book of Mormon was offensive to him, and further evidence of how he could not trust me with revealing his deeper, Christian self.
So now he's renewing his relationship with Christ, he's joined a church and a church-based men's group, and is hanging out with his Christian friends (people I've never met) who will guide him on his journey to enlightenment. No idea what he wants from me, other than to have me to blame for his choices and saddle me with the responsibility for the relationship ending.
His lies and betrayal were painful enough. Him blaming me, though? That hurts the worst. I feel like I've been beaten up these past five weeks, and last night in counseling, WH went for the kill shot. I had to hang onto the wall just to walk down the stairs from the therapists' office, I don't think I've ever cried that hard. Most of the end of the session was a blur. I'm not even sure what the counselor was saying, my head was in a fog of agony for the latter half of our session.
I've been trying to piece it together ever since. I guess WH is going to cast himself the repentant Christian, walking the righteous path, and sinful corruptor wife me is to blame for his distraction from his holy journey. So he will rally everyone around him with his self-portrayal, and everyone will applaud him for his courageous rebirth. Blame will be placed squarely upon me, and WH will go on, find some nice Christian girl whom he actually values and would never dream of destroying. Me, well ... I get to sort out the tatters of my life and try to survive what he did to me.
I think really, though, the bottom line is that he never valued me. Telling me he loved me was just one of his many lies. He used me, took all I had to give, but didn't see me worth anything in return. How else could you explain how he intentionally destroyed me?
How does a person destroy someone they claim to love? How do they bludgeon them, over and over, repeatedly, in the face of their agony? How do they behave so selfishly, when someone gives them so much love and adoration? How much more is WH going to do to me? How much more can I take?
I've never felt more destroyed, on every single level, in my whole life. I just want to stop crying, and stop hurting.